


Nicknames

by JazzRaft



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Pet Names, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 03:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21047393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Nyx liked nicknames. Noct liked nicknames too, though he didn’t realize just how much until Nyx started having ones for him.





	Nicknames

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glaivenoct](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glaivenoct/gifts).

> A small birthday present for brina! I hope you have a good one! <3

Nyx liked nicknames.

Noctis knew that about him long before they got together.

He remembered hearing Nyx assign little tags to the glaives whom he was friendliest when he saw them, passing through the Citadel halls on a long guard shift. Sometimes they were unique, personal nicknames that Noctis could never quite puzzle out. They were pulled from a history, a comedy, some inside knowledge that he never expected he would get close enough to understand. Other times, they were casual, common nicknames, names that Noctis often attached to his own friends on lazy, affectionate days where the best effort he could make consisted of one or two syllables.

Nyx called Libertus “big guy” or “big fella” when they were ribbing each other after sparring practice and Libertus had come out on top. Most times, he just called him “Libs” for short, much like Noctis called Gladiolus “Gladio” and Ignis “Iggy.” But a few times, Noctis heard Nyx call Libertus names that made no sense to him at all. Like “Ted” or “Teddy” or “how’s my big bear today?” Noctis didn’t quite understand the association, especially with the mortified shove Libertus gave Nyx in response, each time.

Crowe could be any name between “girl” and “Firebug,” and once he heard Nyx call her “Weathervane.” Noctis thought he might understand that one, associating it with her elemental affinities, but the length in comparison to Crowe’s actual name kind of defeated the purpose of it being a nickname. Pelna was most often “Pel” – simple, short, sweet – or, on occasion, “Peanut.” Noctis had no idea if that was supposed to be in reference to his diminutive stature, or if there was an incident with a peanut butter jar he just was not privy to.

Nyx liked nicknames, and Noct liked nicknames, too. He didn’t realize just how much until Nyx started having ones for him.

It started with the little ones, casual ones, harmless, every day ones that could be interchanged with any number of strangers Nyx might trade greetings with on the street. He called him “kid” when they first started warp training, and Noctis always hated it. He didn’t know why – Gladio called him “kid” and “squirt” and “pipsqueak” all the time when they were teasing each other in the ring. But when Nyx did it, Noctis hated it.

He wasn’t a _kid._ He remembered snapping that at Nyx once, without meaning to. He remembered being frustrated with whatever they were practicing, feeling dizzy and teetering near stasis, and grinding his teeth every time Nyx tentatively patted his back like he was afraid he might break him if he tapped him any harder.

Nyx found different nicknames for him after that. He made up variations for Noct’s title – “princeling,” “Your High Lordiness” when he was in a silly mood, but Noct’s favorite was his “little king.” He called him that the most because Noctis scoffed the least at it – maybe even smiled a few times where Nyx could see.

It was cute. Nicknames were cute. And they were cuter when they came from Nyx.

Noctis was afraid to admit that, didn’t think he was _allowed_ to. Part of the frustration over Nyx’s more casual nicknames for him was that he didn’t want them to be casual. He wanted them to be personal. He wanted to know Nyx well enough that he could feel comfortable giving him a name that only the two of them understood.

He didn’t want to be “kid” or “bro” or “little guy” or whatever inane, platonic nickname just fell off the tongue when no one cared enough to say each other’s name. He wanted to be “sweetheart,” maybe “babe” if he was feeling bold; or maybe, one day, even “my love.”

It was stupid and sappy and so ridiculous when he kept himself awake at night wondering what that might be like. He would cycle through different names and try them out in his mental image of Nyx and see how he felt when he whispered them in his ear. He wasn’t nearly as creative as Nyx was though. All he thought of were the common ones or the obvious ones. He could never come up with a special one, not one that meant anything specific to himself.

He lingered on “little king” the most, even though he knew Nyx didn’t mean it to be romantic.

That ended up being wrong. So wrong. Noctis was never happier to be wrong in his life when, one night after practice, Nyx asked, “Hey, would it be bad if I asked you out to dinner sometime?”

“That could only be good,” is what Noctis _hoped_ he’d said. He couldn’t actually remember whenever he was asked to recount the evening. But he did remember Nyx’s crooked smile afterwards, and the charming way he said, “It’s a date then, little king.”

If more romantic words could be spoken, Noctis really didn’t want to hear them. He remembered that part of the conversation the most vividly. He remembered every syllable bouncing his heart up and down all night long while he dreamed of where they might go, what they might eat, how they might talk to each other, what Nyx would wear, what _he_ would wear, damnit, did he go casual or formal? How did he make himself look _not_ like a prince? How did he be normal?

Whatever he’d done must have been good enough. Because that date was the gateway to a hundred new nicknames.

Nyx still called him “little king” because he said it was “classic” and it was important to the two of them in that it was the first tagline to how much they cared about one another. He called him “kitten” or “kitten prince” when Noctis stretched out in his lap on the couch in his apartment to watch movies and eat popcorn and make out on the corner cushion when the credits started rolling and Nyx could make him purr. He called him “little star” on nights when they could escape the worst glares of the city lights and see the stars above the Wall.

He called him the simple ones, too, but he made them sound like they were special. Like they were just for Noct, even though he knew they’d belonged between a million other lovers before they’d ever come along. He’d call him “mine,” say he was “yours,” “love you” like it was his name.

Noctis was powerless against Nyx’s little language of nicknames. He was too dumbstruck by his smile and his warm hands on his face and the scruffy feel of his lips on his ear to come up with any nicknames for Nyx in return. He ended up parroting the same ones back to him, called him his “hero” like so many people had done before.

“My hero” or “my big dumb hero” were what made it special though. Nyx might have been a hero to the masses, but he didn’t belong to them like he did to Noct. He could call him “mine” and mean it, have it just be between the two of them. He was his hero in more ways than he ever was to anyone else.

And it all started with something as simple as a nickname.


End file.
